Devil's Lair Page 6

  As the curtains closed, a figure caught Callie’s eye. ‘Wait—open the drapes again.’

  Paisley frowned but did so a touch. ‘What?’

  Callie stared at the man in the dark suit for the second time that day. Though he was quite a distance away, she could tell he was staring straight back with that same, still intensity. ‘That guy in the suit, watching by the gate. He was the one I was talking about at the courthouse.’

  Paisley stared. ‘I don’t know. He’s a bit scary looking, I suppose.’

  The phone rang. Callie stepped back from the window and answered automatically. ‘No, I don’t want to do an interview.’ She put the handset down while the caller was still talking.

  When it rang again almost immediately, Paisley pounced on it. ‘Listen, you bloody bloodsuckers—oh, right.’

  Callie frowned. Someone had Paisley’s attention. She waited impatiently for the call to end.

  ‘That was the real estate agent,’ Paisley told her. ‘They’ve reduced their offer.’

  Callie laughed, and it came out harsh. ‘Why wouldn’t they? Of course they have, now I actually want to sell. I’d love to tell them to stick it, but honestly, I just want to get out of here as soon as possible.’ She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. ‘Are you sure you really want me coming with you?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘I’m going to need money.’

  ‘I’ll transfer some to my account—on paper it’ll show as a redundancy package. Lucky me,’ she added with a grin. ‘I’ll go down to the bank when we get home, draw it out so you have some cash to live off for a while. That way you won’t have to flash around any cards until you’ve got your name change through.’

  ‘You don’t think anyone will recognise me?’

  ‘I don’t think it will be a big deal for long, and you’re not going to be a social butterfly, so no, I don’t think so. But if you like, we can do something about your hair, short term.’

  ‘Okay.’ Callie nodded slowly. ‘How soon can we leave?’

  CHAPTER

  7

  Callie and Paisley crawled out of Hobart in a rented compact SUV that smelled of too much synthetic air freshener, but the air was so damn freezing she put up with it.

  ‘It’s beautiful down here, isn’t it?’ Paisley commented with a yawn.

  Callie looked at the sky, where a sparkling blue horizon fought against a blanket of thick morning fog that rolled along the River Derwent on its way to the sea. The haze was taking its time to clear as she navigated the twists and turns of the unfamiliar roads. And yet, the drive had a feeling of coming home to it. Of sanctuary.

  ‘Hmm. And cold.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind driving? I can take over if you like.’

  ‘You drove to the airport. It’s not far, right?’

  ‘Just follow Google. I might have a quick nap. It’s been a long night.’

  As Callie followed the two-lane highway out of town, her eyelids drooped. They’d been travelling since two that morning, using the darkness of the early morning to escape reporters on their dash to the airport. She dared take her eyes from the road long enough to find the right button and scanned for a radio station, hoping it wouldn’t disturb Paisley. Noise, even quiet noise or chatter, would help to keep her awake while her friend hopefully continued to snore quietly. The numbers flew through, stopped at 101.7 and a cheerful voice announced she was listening to 7HOFM. A recent hit song came on and she sat back, returning her full concentration to the road ahead.

  She dropped the window a crack, shivering as the cold blast of air chilled her into alertness and added colour to her cheeks. A little further and she spotted the sign for New Norfolk, and another yawn had her considering pulling off the highway in search of coffee. She decided against it and kept driving, dragging her fingers over her eyes and through her straightened, dark brown hair. It was short now, barely long enough to get a band into. She missed the length, the curls, the colour.

  How long was she going to have to hide down here? The money from the property sale would tide her over for a long time—properly invested, she might not even need to work. But that would drive her crazy. She really did like the idea of going back to landscaping. She could take a business like that anywhere. If she ever needed to move again, it would be much simpler than being tied to a place, like another bed and breakfast. Besides, hadn’t all that really been Dale’s dream?

  She wondered if guilt would ever hit. It hadn’t yet. Shock had come quickly, then fear, anguish, regret. But not guilt. Perhaps one day it would sneak up on her unexpectedly, someday when the pictures of Lisa’s horrific death faded from the back of her eyelids. But she’d deal with that, like she’d dealt with everything else.

  Eventually Callie turned onto the road that promised to lead to Paisley’s childhood home. Again she caught her breath at the scenery.

  As though sensing they were getting close, Paisley stirred and yawned. ‘That didn’t take long.’

  ‘You were snoring.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I really appreciate all this, Paise.’

  ‘So you keep saying. If I print it out and stick it on the wall where we can see it every five minutes, will you stop feeling like you need to remind me?’ Paisley turned her teasing eyes from Callie and pointed. ‘See that sign for Waldron Park? Turn in there.’

  ‘Oh—wow!’ The cottage came into view first, a charming stone box tucked into the edge of a driveway laid with pretty pink gravel. An ancient climbing rose decorated the brickwork and framed the white cottage windows. The untidy gardens hugging the building were no less enchanting because of their neglect. Callie hoped she’d have a chance to care for them.

  ‘Park at the side, there.’

  She pulled the car up at the cottage and got out, stretched and looked around. She breathed in, releasing her breath slowly. This was the last place anyone would come looking or her. A bit further along the drive through the tall gums and liquidambars, she caught sight of a much larger building and found herself walking around the bend in the driveway to get a better look.

  The driveway became wider and curved around a central garden. The house, constructed of the same stone as the cottage, towered above her to look over the river a short distance down the hill. It had two storeys and a tower, with decorative ironwork railings encompassing shady verandas.

  ‘I’ve never seen anything so lovely.’

  Paisley stood beside her to admire the house. ‘Welcome home.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She couldn’t quite read the expression on her friend’s face, but there was an intensity to it that quickly evaporated.

  ‘Only place to rival it around here is Tynwald, on the other side of the bend in the river. Similar appearance, slightly bigger, I think.’

  ‘This place looks more like a hotel than a home.’

  ‘Which is what I dreamt of turning it into. But never mind,’ Paisley said briskly. ‘Let’s get settled in the cottage.’ As they turned and walked back, she gestured to the smaller building. ‘It’s as small as the house is big, but it’s cosy. At least it used to be. I gave it a fresh coat of paint last time I was down here, so we might need to open it all up, let it breathe.’

  ‘You painted it?’

  ‘We have a bit of trouble with water getting in. It stained the ceilings and the walls. Ned reckons he’s got it under control, but I guess we’ll find out.’

  They unloaded their bags and stepped onto a small porch covered by a wooden pergola and set with a wrought iron table and chairs. Paisley unlocked the door and pushed it open, then stood back for Callie to enter.

  The smell of fresh paint was overpowering, so Callie dropped her suitcase at the door and went across the lounge area to open one of the windows. The view onto the river was lovely, as was the fresh air that blew in. She stepped around a fireplace and opened another window, while Paisley went through a door on the other side of the room and Callie heard the slide of another wind
ow opening before Paisley reappeared.

  ‘This is it. The spare bedroom is here.’ Paisley approached a third door and opened it, swearing at an assortment of boxes littering the small space, covering the floor and bed. ‘This is Ned’s stuff. He said he’d have it out of here for us. Must have gotten caught up. We’ll put it on the patio.’

  Beyond the lounge room with its mismatch of simple furnishings and threadbare rugs was a small kitchen that looked basic but serviceable. A door next to the fridge on the back wall led to a shoebox laundry and tiny bathroom.

  ‘I think the paint smell might take a bit of time to dissipate. Want a tour of the grounds?’ Paisley offered. ‘Or would you rather rest for a while?’

  ‘Tour. Absolutely.’

  A blue Corolla hatchback rolled in as they walked outside. The guy, who she guessed was probably around middle age, was tall, with a sinewy strength about him and a head of untidy, thinning black hair. He stared, then smiled as he climbed out of the car, his lined face suggesting years of hard work in the sun. ‘Morning.’

  ‘Hi. I’m—’

  ‘You’d be Callie. I’m Paisley’s brother, Ned.’

  ‘Hi,’ Paisley said. ‘You’re late.’

  ‘Yeah, held up. So you brought her then,’ Ned said with a glance back to Callie.

  ‘Obviously.’ Then, when he continued to stare with what Callie considered a little too much curiosity, Paisley sighed. ‘What? Is everything okay?’

  ‘Not sure Dad will think so.’ Then to Callie he said, ‘Sorry about all my stuff in the bedroom. I’ll get it out of your way.’

  ‘That’d be great,’ Paisley said. ‘I was just about to give Callie a tour.’

  ‘Why does she need a tour?’

  ‘So she knows where everything is, Ned,’ Paisley said with unconcealed impatience.

  ‘But—right,’ Ned said, looking away. ‘You go ahead. I can manage.’

  Callie shot him a quick smile and followed Paisley out along the driveway. ‘Ned seems nice.’

  ‘You can see why he can’t manage Dad,’ Paisley replied. ‘Sometimes I’m surprised he can manage himself.’

  There were garden paths everywhere, begging to be explored. What once had been formal hedges were mostly overgrown, but the plantings gelled with the unkempt cottage garden look, so it was charming, even through the areas of chaos.

  ‘I could play with this,’ Callie offered, ‘while I’m here. Bring it back to where it should be.’

  Paisley’s smile broadened. ‘I knew you’d be itching to get your hands on it when you saw it. And honestly, I’d really appreciate it.’ She stared up at the house with a wistful expression.

  It wouldn’t be hard to fall in love with, Callie thought. A big, gorgeous old home like this, on all these riverfront acres. They walked up a pretty path surrounded on both sides by pink and gold grevilleas. ‘The house was built in the early 1800s, been in the family forever. There are seven bedrooms, five bathrooms and a huge cellar space. You’ll go nuts when you see the furniture. It’s almost all antique.’

  Buxus lined a path that led to the drive and a pretty little birdbath sat under an old elm that reached towards the house with long, twisted branches. ‘This is so sweet, Paise. It’s a shame it’s not kept up.’ She turned to smile at Paisley as she heard the step behind her, then yelped in surprise. She’d almost bumped into a man. He was short and slightly stooped. Deep lines marred his unfriendly face, and shrewd eyes stared out from beneath thick eyebrows. Overalls hung on his spindly frame. He needed a shave. In one hand was a thick wooden walking stick. In the other was a hammer.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Dad,’ Paisley said sharply from behind her. ‘This is Callie.’

  ‘Hmph.’

  Callie stood uncomfortably and quietly while his eyes studied her in what seemed like minute detail. His lips thinned. ‘Always bring trouble with ya.’

  ‘Thanks for that. Callie’s staying in the cottage for a while, remember?’ Paisley said with an apologetic smile in her direction. ‘We talked about this. Callie, this is my father, Cliff.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Callie said.

  ‘Well, I’d be pleased if you went right back to where you came from.’

  She flinched.

  ‘Ned’s at the cottage, Dad,’ Paisley said calmly. ‘He wants to talk to you.’

  Cliff stared at Paisley, then back at Callie for a handful of unnerving seconds then, mumbling to himself, limped off.

  ‘Um, if me being here is a problem …’ Callie felt compelled to say.

  ‘Nah.’ Paisley smiled cheerfully. ‘He just gets a bit edgy about having strangers on the place. I’m betting he thought I was sneaking in a real estate agent. Come and have a look around. I need to grab some sheets and towels.’ Paisley put her hand on the front door, then paused. ‘Do me a favour—try not to get lost in the mess.’

  The door opened onto a large entryway with shabby green walls and scarred wooden floors. A long side table was equally well used and overflowing with what Callie decided had to be about a year’s worth of unopened mail, newspapers and general rubbish. There were framed photographs, old and falling from their positions. She rubbed her arms in an attempt to stave off the sudden chill she felt and followed Paisley past a lovely staircase with a doorway leading somewhere underneath it, through to a living room beyond. Everywhere she looked, shoeboxes, cardboard boxes, piles of books and necessities sat in piles. There was an unmistakably musty smell, and the whole house seemed unnaturally dark. Heavy curtains lined the windows, and though the windows themselves were bright with light, it didn’t filter well into the rooms. Odd, Callie thought. It was as though not even the sun wanted to be in this place.

  ‘I see the packing’s already begun,’ she said to break the almost eerie silence. ‘I thought you said he was only considering leaving?’

  ‘He is. And this isn’t preparing to move. This is just how he lives. I did warn you.’

  The thump, thump, thump of a walking stick had Callie looking over her shoulder to see Cliff appear behind them. ‘Nothing wrong with how I live!’ he snapped. ‘Or how I have my gardens,’ he said for Callie’s benefit. ‘And I didn’t invite you in, so scoot,’ he told Paisley with another wave of his stick. ‘And take your friend with ya!’

  Callie was already three awkward strides towards the door when Paisley caught her eye and shook her head. ‘All we’re doing is getting some linen. Want me to freshen your room up while I’m in here?’

  ‘Don’t need anyone to change my sheets or—’ He stopped talking to catch his breath. Callie was concerned he was going to topple over. But he recovered and shot Paisley another scowl that was punctuated by a loud bang of his stick. ‘And I don’t need this one left here to spy on me! Isn’t Adelaide enough?’

  ‘I’m not—Dad, please.’ Paisley pressed her fingers to her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. ‘We have to get past this.’

  ‘Only thing you want to get past is me—to kick me out of my own house. And you won’t. I’m not leaving.’ He hefted himself back to his feet. ‘It’ll never be what it was. Not while I’m breathing!’ He stomped out, huffing and puffing back the way he’d come.

  Unsure what to do or say, Callie waited, watching Paisley compose herself.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Paisley said and started up the stairs. ‘He’s being nastier than usual. It’s the “having to go into care” issue.’

  ‘Who’s Adelaide?’

  ‘The community nurse.’ Paisley walked along the landing to a linen cupboard and pulled out sheets and blankets, a few towels, then handed some of the load to Callie. ‘She’s lovely, and they’ve been friends for years. He doesn’t mean to be difficult. He’s just miserable.’

  ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean what he said,’ Callie said as they returned downstairs. ‘But I think having me here is only aggravating the situation. I should go somewhere else.’

  ‘Absolutely not. He’ll be nice as pie next time he sees you. It’s me he
’s cross with.’

  ‘Does he know the story behind me being here?’

  ‘There was no way I could keep it from him. He knew I was working for you, knew a lot about all of it before the incident. The only other person down here who knows is Ned, because I want him to keep an eye out for the media or anyone else asking any inappropriate questions.’

  They went back to the cottage and found Ned attempting to fit a box of DVDs into an already full boot. ‘You send Dad looking for me?’ he asked, somehow finding room between a radio and a doona.

  ‘He’s in a mood,’ Paisley told him. ‘I needed to get him out of my hair for a moment.’

  Callie followed her inside and put her pile on the side table. Paisley ducked her head round the door to the second bedroom.

  ‘Ned! There’s still a heap here!’

  ‘I know. I can’t fit it all in,’ he said, appearing in the doorway. ‘I’ll have to make another trip.’

  Paisley swore under her breath. ‘Can you do it today?’

  ‘Doubt it,’ he said. ‘Gotta get back to work.’

  ‘It can’t stay here.’

  Ned scratched his head and took a long look at Callie. ‘I don’t mind coming back after work, I suppose. Be late though. Want me to bring some dinner?’

  ‘Not necessary,’ Paisley said. ‘Put it in the rental car and I’ll run it out later on. I have to go shopping before I fly back anyway.’

  He shrugged then nodded. ‘Suit yourself.’ He walked around to the driver’s side of his car and leant on the open door to study Callie again. ‘I can help you out, drop by if you need anything. Got a few long workdays coming up but you can give me a call, any time. Paisley can leave you my number. Or you can give me yours.’

  ‘I appreciate that.’

  ‘Guess I’ll leave you to it then. If you come out with the rest of my stuff around twelve, I’ll be back at the staff room in the guesthouse. Won’t be able to find me otherwise till after dark at the bunkhouse.’